


Oops Baby: Scenes From an Unplanned Pregnancy

by StarMaamMke



Series: Oops Baby [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-01-29 17:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12635910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarMaamMke/pseuds/StarMaamMke
Summary: Based on several Tumblr prompts at @starmaammke. Joyce and Hopper prepare for a new addition to their ever growing family.





	1. Chapter 1

“How did this happen?” Jim Hopper demanded as he sat across the kitchen table from his wife, a pregnancy test laying on the table in the space between them, nestled in a paper towel.

Joyce quirked one dark eyebrow before narrowing her eyes and sucking in her lips. “Are you… -what?”

“It doesn’t seem possible, I guess. We aren’t exactly - how?”

“Stop asking that!” Joyce snatched the paper towel from the middle of the table, wrapped the test tight and flung it towards the trashcan. It bounced off of the lid and slid across the floor, the test dislodging from it’s wrapping and landing exposed and face up, the little pink lines taunting Joyce.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Please don’t work yourself up - I know how, I just don’t know…- aren’t you done with that sort of thing?” Hopper winced as Joyce’s large brown eyes flashed and her jaw dropped. “No?”

“No! I haven’t started menopause yet, I’m not- I’m not…- I’m not Edith Bunker!” She didn’t want to say old, even though most days she felt it.

Hopper dragged his palms across his cheeks before burying his face against them. “I thought we were being careful.” He put his hands down. “We’re always careful, right?”

“Think, Hop.”

At the prompt, his brain began to mentally catalog every moment of intimacy in the past two months. It took a while, as far as married couples went they were extremely active, excessively almost.

“Oh.” His mind settled on a not-too-long ago night when the kids were all out of the house, and the two of them had decided to get nostalgic; playing old records and dancing slow and close in the middle of the living room between smokes and sips of whiskey. Lots of whiskey. Whiskey that made them as amorous as they were reckless.

“I’m going to have to say it happened shortly after we decided being out of condoms wasn’t going to stop us, and then you telling me how close you were and how badly you wanted to…-” Joyce turned crimson, and cast her eyes to the floor. “- finish the job.” Those weren’t the exact words Hopper had used, but she was going for delicacy. “And then I was the idiot who said ‘go for it’.” Also not verbatim, but Joyce had no idea when the kids were going to return home from after school activities.

Hopper opened and closed his mouth several times before settling on the only thing he could think to say.

“Oops?”

 

_______

 

 

“Are you ready?” Hopper inquired, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her against him in a warm, protective spoon as the early morning sun filtered through the curtains.

Joyce groaned. Their bed was so comfortable, and the conversation they were about to have with their children was decidedly uncomfortable.

“No, I’m never leaving this bed.”

Hopper nuzzled the back of her neck. “We told Jonathan to come all this way. He probably thinks something’s wrong, baby.”

“Goddamn you. When you put it like that…”

“Will and the girls have definitely noticed all the throwing up and mid-day naps, they’re worried too.”

“Okay, okay! Stop guilting me.”

“Sorry. You’re so beautiful in this light.”

“Smooth.”

________

Joyce’s stomach roiled unpleasantly at the breakfasty aromas floating from the kitchen. Hopper and Jonathan were cooking, while Will and the girls waited anxiously in the living room for the news.

“What’s with all the long faces?” Joyce asked, wandering into the living room while brushing her damp hair.

“Can you just tell us what’s going on already?” Will pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. Joyce walked over to the couch and kissed the top of his head.

“Sweetie, stop. It’s not as bad as you think.”

“It feels like it.”

“Well, it’s not. Let’s go help Hop and Jonathan a little and settle in for breakfast.”

“Joyce, don’t you dare lift a finger!” Hopper shouted from the kitchen. “Breakfast is ready, anyway.”

Joyce watched as her little family enjoyed their stacks of pancakes. They were enthusiastic about the treat, but silence hung over the proceedings like an ominous thunderhead. Hopper kept shooting her meaningful glances, as if beseeching her to get the news out, sooner rather than later. She pretended not to notice as she nibbled at her dry toast.

Later, the family gathered into the living room, the kids crowding on the sofa as Joyce settled into the armchair - Hopper stood at her side, a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“I suppose you’ve all noticed that something isn’t right with me,” Joyce began.

“The constant retching sound from the bathroom has been a huge indicator,” Kali observed, putting an arm around El’s shoulder. The curly-mopped brunette looked as though she was about to cry.

“Yes, I haven’t been feeling well.”

“What is it, Mom?” Jonathan inquired, he looked to Hopper. “What are you keeping from us?”

“Well, we’ve been waiting to tell you all the news because of the complications that could have arisen early on, but it looks like I might be in the clear. I’m pregnant.”

Jonathan and Will’s jaws dropped, and Kali made a little noise that sounded like a soft gasp. El was eerily silent; her large brown eyes went wide, and the blood drained from her already wan face.

“Holy crap!” Will exclaimed, looking to his older brother with wild and astonished eyes.

“That’s… wow, Mom. Wow, Hopper.”

“Huh.”

El rose to her feet with a small whimper,  and ran into her room.

“Excuse me,” Hopper apologized, kissing Joyce on the cheek before following his daughter into her room.

Joyce pressed her lips into a thin line and regarded her children, biological and adopted.

“Umm… any questions?” she inquired weakly.

Jonathan looked from Will to Kali, and back to Joyce, his brow furrowed.

“How?”

 

_______

 

Jim Hopper knew by his daughter’s furrowed brow and shining brown eyes, by the way she hunched her shoulders and bit her lip before fleeing the family meeting to run to the room she shared with her new “sister” Kali, that he’d have more explaining to do. The other girl, for her part, seemed utterly indifferent to the news, observing Jonathan and Will’s mix of distress and happiness with dark, fathomless eyes. He kissed Joyce on her clammy cheek (she really had to build up her strength for the conversation, sick as she always seemed to be), rose to his feet and headed for the hallway to Jonathan’s former bedroom.

“Kid?” He rapped on the door with his knuckles.

He heard sniffling, and the sound of the mattress squeaking. Finally, socked feet padded across the carpeted floor and the door opened. Hopper felt his insides twist and ache at the sight of El’s pale oval face, streaked with tears. “Hey, what’s this?” he asked swiping across one damp cheek with his forefinger.

“Is Mom going to die?”

The inquiry fell on his ears like a cheap shot to the head, momentarily dizzying him, his chest squeezing before his heart started to beat rapidly. It was a thought that had started to plague him shortly after he and Joyce had decided to keep the baby. This was the first time he had ever heard his greatest fear voiced outside of his head, the doctors and Joyce were always very careful with their language ( “There of course, might be complications”; “We’ll monitor her carefully and let you know if there’s anything to be alarmed about” ; “Women give birth everyday, you dummy. Just the other day I was reading a story about a 65 year-old woman who..”) He knew he was being watched by clever, calculating eyes, so he quickly schooled his features into the Devil-May-Care grin he was known for.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

El stepped to one side to allow Hopper to enter the room and gently shut the door behind him.

“What made you ask that, kiddo?”

El walked over to her twin bed and took a seat on the edge. Hopper moved to sit across from her, on the edge of Kali’s bed, the delicate mattress and frame dipping under his weight.

“Bad things happen after babies come. Mama is as good as dead.”

Ah. Mama.

“Your Aunt Becky thinks-”

“She’s just trying to make me feel better so we’re depressed when I’m visiting. Mama is gone.”

Hopper puffed out his cheeks and looked around the room, his eyes settling on a poster of John Stamos near the girls’ shared vanity table. “He’s a handsome fella.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Mom isn’t going to - look, women give birth every day, and not all of them end up like your Mama. Joyce gave birth twice already, and she’s perfectly healthy.”

“She has bronchitis when it’s cold.”

“That has nothing to do with babies! Look, we have the best doctor’s making sure absolutely nothing will go wrong. The best doctors.”

El nodded. “Okay… but where will we put the baby? Kali already hates sharing a room with me.”

Hopper leaned back slightly, and then forward, a contemplative look furrowing his heavy brow. “You mean we can’t just keep it in the shed?”

“Dad!”

“We’re working on that detail. I think a bigger house would be nice for all of us. You and Kali won’t be at each other’s throats, and there won’t be a fight for the bathroom.”

“My own room?” El’s eyes brightened at the prospect, and Hopper felt the brobdingnagian lead in his chest lighten somewhat.

“Yeah, how about that?”

“And a baby. I’ve never seen a real baby before.”

Hopper shrugged. “They all look like Milton Berle for the first couple of months, but they get interesting once they start talking.”

“Milton… Berle?”

“Before your time.”

“Oh.”

 

________

 

Joyce had never felt the mythical radiant glow of pregnancy. With Jonathan and Will she had been sick practically from start to finish, and Lonnie had been full of oh-so-sensitive observations about her increasing size, and her ‘preggo attitude’, that had no exactly made her feel like a blessed Madonna.

Oops Baby was proving to be no exception. The never-ending ‘morning sickness’ extended to the afternoons and evenings, and Joyce swore to never take excess energy for granted ever again. She couldn’t even remember the last time ‘I want to take a nap’ wasn’t a mantra that played in her head on a constant loop.

Hopper, for his part, was as attentive and loving as she could have ever hoped for. Too attentive and loving, if someone were to ask her opinion, and they never did. Everyone was too touched by this lumbering giant of a man fussing and cooing over his tiny, pregnant wife to wonder if said tiny wife was annoyed over being treated like fine china.

Joyce was about five months in before feeling like breaking her routine of sleep, work, eat, sleep to attend a birthday party for Dr. Sam Owens at The Hideaway. He was turning 60, Hopper, out of a sense of gratitude and burgeoning friendship, had taken care of all of the details. Joyce wondered if his throwing himself into the task of party planning wasn’t just a ploy to break the monotony of tending to Joyce 24/7 - either way, his new, temporary distraction was a welcome one. It gave her time to breath and process on her own.

The party was small, mostly because the good doctor only had a handful of friends, most of them work colleagues from his new position at Hawkins General. Joyce walked (waddled) into the bar, astonished to find that it lacked it’s usual stale, smokey aroma. Then she noticed a hand-written sign that read: Closed for a Private Party. No Smoking. She’d recognize Hopper’s boyish scrawl anywhere, and the touching consideration made her snort with derision.

“Hey! I was going to come and pick you up,” Hopper fussed, rushing to her side from the other end of the bar.

“Pregnancy hormones don’t inhibit my ability to operate a vehicle, Hop,” Joyce replied, taking his arm as he led her to a booth.

“No, but the Pinto is a deathtrap. You know they explode, right?”

“Yeah, that’s why it was a bargain when I bought it,” Joyce replied in her best ‘No shit, Sherlock’ tone.

“We’re trading it in on Monday.”

Before Joyce could protest, Sam Owens sat up in his booth and came bounding over to the pair.

“ _Bella Madonna_! I’m so glad you decided to descend from the heavens for my most unworthy of birthdays,” the older man flirted, taking one of Joyce’s hands and kissing the back of it. Joyce felt a blush creep to her cheeks and intensify at his boldness. “Seriously, though, you are glowing, Mom. Absolutely radiant.”

“Stop,” Joyce chided, waving a dismissive hand at the man.

“Yes, stop,” Hopper insisted, throwing a big, possessive arm around Joyce’s shoulder and pulling her to his side.

“Pop, when you talked about your anxiety over the new arrival, you never mentioned that your wife looked like a Renaissance painting.”

Joyce gave a very unladylike snort. “Ridiculous. I feel like a haggard, fat old duck.”

“You do not-”

“Nonsense!” Sam exclaimed, cutting Hopper off, and pulling Joyce away from her husband to give her a warm hug. “You’re a goddess.”

“Okay, we get it!” Hopper snapped, irritably, drawing Sam and Joyce’s attention back to him. They both smirked at each other before Joyce stepped out of his embrace and returned to her husband.

“Green is not your color,” Joyce teased, standing on her tip-toes to kiss his bearded cheek.

“If I had known he was going to try to blatantly romance you under my nose, I would’ve made him celebrate his birthday at home, alone.”

“No you wouldn’t, Jim. You’re too fond of me. I’m delightful,” Sam shot back with a sly grin.

“Yeah, yeah, happy birthday, you jackass.”

 

_______

 

“Pack of onesies, dark green with white stripes, Claudia Henderson,” Joyce Hopper whispered to Karen Wheeler from her heavily cushioned wicker chair. Karen sat at a dining room chair, scribbling into a notepad. “Thank you, Claudia!” Joyce said aloud, smiling across her living-room at the curly-haired, pleasant faced woman who sat among a small group of women who were likewise in temperament, or at least they were on their best baby shower behavior.

Joyce was surrounded by a mountain of presents that didn’t seem to be getting smaller, no matter how long she tore at the bright and festive paper, or smiled until the muscles in her cheek ached. ‘I hate Karen’ seemed to running in her head constantly, changing melody every so often so it didn’t get stale. She had fought so hard to NOT have to be humiliated with a baby shower (this was her third kid, baby showers were for young mothers, don’t make me sit in the middle of a room on display…), but Karen had decided that Joyce was just protesting too much, and gee wouldn’t it be nice to just SURPRISE her instead? The house was notably absent Will and Hopper, so Joyce sensed complicity. Hop would pay.

“Here, Mom,” El’s low, sweet voice jerked Joyce out of her bitter reverie and she smiled up at her adopted daughter as she was handed a small, rectangular box wrapped in ivory paper with a mauve ribbon.

“You didn’t have to-”

“Kali and I saved up.” Joyce raised an eyebrow and shot a look at her other adopted daughter, the newest edition to the family. The dark-eyed teen smirked, shrugged, and went back to reading a large horror novel that appeared to be 800 pages, if not more. Kali was… an adjustment, but she seemed to be warming up to family life. Joyce finally stopped expecting to wake up and find the girl missing along with the battered duffel bag that had been the only thing in her possession when they took her in.

Joyce smiled at both girls, unwrapped and opened the box. Nestled in cotton was a delicate silver rope chain chain with a butterfly clasp. Attached along the chain were five silver discs, barely the size of a dime. All of the discs save for one had a name etched on them in cursive; _Jonathan_ , _Will, El, Kali._

 _“_ There’s one for the baby,” Kali muttered, without looking up from her book. “We don’t know what you’re going to call it.”

“Well, that’s just -…” Joyce frowned at the name on the box. _Tiffany and Co. ._ Obviously, the girls had had help with the purchase. She wondered (very sarcastically) who on earth she knew in New York City that would do a thing like that. “It’s beautiful, girls. I can’t wait to engrave the fifth charm.” She reached out an arm towards El and hugged the girl to her side. “I love you both.”

“Love you too, Mom,” El murmured, pressing a kiss to Joyce’s cheek. Kali made a non-committal in her throat that sounded vaguely uncomfortable.

A knock on the door drew the attention of the room. Joyce tried to rise to her feet, but Karen gently pressed on her shoulder.

“This is your party, Mommy. Let me get that.”

“Don’t call me-”

The door flew open and Joyce felt annoyance rise within her like wildfire as Lonnie Byers stepped into the room. His shirt was clean, hair slicked back, face clean-shaven, and the scent of his aftershave made Joyce’s stomach roil unpleasantly.

“Well, hell, I didn’t think there would be anyone here,” Lonnie cursed, giving every female in the room his most winning grin. He gave a start when his eyes fell on Joyce and took note of her very obvious condition - she wrapped her arms over her midsection, feeling both protective and self-conscious.

“Holy - well, damn, last I heard, you were with Bob the Brain. Did he do that to you?”

Joyce felt the blood drain from her face at the oblivious remark. The tips of her ears began to burn as she caught the murmurs of mortified disapproval amongst her guests. Both Kali and El were glaring up at the man; their brows furrowed and their mouths set in twin lines of suspicion.

Karen cleared her throat and crossed the room to Lonnie. When she reached his side, she whispered low in his ear, as if Joyce didn’t know what her friend was filling her ex-husband in on.

“Shit! I’m sorry, babe. Living off the grid will do that to a man - I’ve been cut off from the gossip mill for years.”

“Mexico again?” Joyce inquired in a soft voice that drew concerned looks from Kali and El. She was trying desperately to think about her blood pressure, to keep her temper -

“Yeah. It’s funny, I actually had a - I guess you could call it a religious experience, and I decided to come back and work things out with you.”

“Ladies, let’s go for a walk!” Karen announced to the guests. Not needing any further encouragement to flee an increasingly awkward scene, Joyce’s guests, save for El and Kali, rose to their feet and followed Karen through the kitchen and into the backyard.

“Girls, why don’t you go to your room and listen to music for a little while?” Joyce rose to her feet and waved an arm towards the hallway when the girls didn’t budge. Their faces blank as they regarded Joyce and then Lonnie.

“What does he mean ‘work things out’?” El asked, furrowing her brow.

“He wants to kick us out and move back in,” Kali stated flatly.

“Girls, go,” Joyce hissed.

“Who the hell are they?” Lonnie asked.

El rose to her feet and walked up to Lonnie, her eyes burning as she tilted her head back to look him straight in the eyes.

“This is our home.”

“It was mine first, kid.”

Joyce stood, planting her hands on her hips. “Not really, Lonnie; I grew up in this house.” her voice was still steady and calm, but she could feel her heart beating in her throat as she tried to appear intimidating to her ex-husband.

“Holy. Shit. You’re real, real pregnant, aren’t you? You always did balloon up.”

Kali snapped her book shut and gave El an urgent look. The younger girl shook her head.

“If you’re here to work things out, you’re doing a real bang-up job,” Joyce snorted. “Was it a religious experience or a running-out-of-money experience? You always knew how to get sweet when the money ran out - Girls, if you do not go to your rooms, this instant! - but it’s a little too late.” Joyce patted her stomach. “Obviously.”

“So Hopper finally weaseled his way back in, eh? I wondered what was taking so long, you’re usually easier to get in bed than -”

Lonnie was slammed, bodily against the front door by an invisible force. His head hit the solid wood with a loud and dull ‘thunk’ before he collapsed to the floor. He was stunned for a moment before he scrambled to his feet. “What the fuck?”

Joyce pointed an accusatory finger at El, who was wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve, as she made her way to Lonnie’s side. “Are you alright?” she inquired, touching him on the shoulder. Lonnie shrugged her hand away and headed for the door.

“I don’t know what that was, but I’m getting the hell out of here! Fuck you, Joyce. Tell Hopper I hope - just, fuck off.” With that, Lonnie waved a dismissive hand, threw open the front door and bolted onto the porch, down the steps, and into the driveway to get to his car.

“Not. Okay,” Joyce scolded the girls as she headed through the kitchen to call her guests back in. “You’re both grounded.”

 

___________

“Please stop calling it an Oops Baby.”

“It’s not a baby, it’s an albatross,” Joyce Hopper grumbled, rubbing her lower back as she settled onto the couch. “Is there another word for a baby that’s due just shy of your 43rd birthday?”

“A baby?” Jim offered, picking up a round, leather ottoman and bringing it over to his wife. “Lift ‘em.” he grunted setting it down and settling next to her on the couch. He threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her against his side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Feeling pretty miserable today, huh?”

“I hate being pregnant in the summer. I was big as a house with Jonathan during one of our hottest summers and I spent the whole time wishing I was dead.”

“It’s just a few more weeks, and the A/C will be fixed this afternoon.”

“I can’t wait that long. I want to die. This house is too small.”

“Also temporary. The new place is all set to move into next week, and the old owners have been letting me come in to set up the nursery for Baby Nibs.”

Joyce took a long look around her shabby but charming living room, and felt tears prickle the corner of her eyes.

“Joycie, no…”

“I grew up in this house.” She covered her face with her hands and let out a little shuddering sob. Jim helplessly rubbed her back and shoulders as she wept for three minutes, sat up and sniffled.

“My back is killing me. I’d kill for an Tylenol, and don’t you dare say ‘no can do’, because I know that already!”

Jim sat back and looked around. The house really was sweltering and miserable. The kids were all at the Wheelers for Mike’s birthday party, enjoying  central air and below ground pool for most of the day and probably the evening.

“We need to get you out of this house.”

“Hop, I don’t want to go to the Wheelers, I don’t have the patience to talk to people, especially people who like to wave their giant glasses of wine in my fat, pregnant face.”

“Ugh, why would I take you there? Ted always tries to talk to me man-to-man about our kids dating and it never fails to creep me out. I always feel like showering after talking to him. No, I’m taking you to the pool.”

“The public pool?” Joyce inquired, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Pay a quarter to see the old, pregnant lady waddling around like a bloated crone-…”

“Stop that. No, the one at the High School.”

“But it’s closed until Fall.”

“Yeah, to people who aren’t married to the Chief of Police maybe.”

______

“You look mighty pretty in that swimsuit,” Jim complimented as his wife floated on her back in the warm water of the Hawkins High swimming pool. He had one hand on the small of her back, and the other between her shoulders as he guided her about in a gentle, rocking motion. Her long auburn hair was piled high on her head in a messy bun, a few, damp curly tendrils sticking to her cheeks and neck.

Joyce snorted. “My boobs maybe. They’ve gotten huge.”

“Oh, I’ve definitely noticed. But, no not just those, everything about you.”

“Even the gigantic beach ball in the middle of my stomach.”

“Especially that.”

Another snort.

“Are you happy with this?” Joyce inquired, standing up in the pool. The water came up to the top of her chest, but only came up to Jim’s waist.

“Yeah, the water’s great.”

Joyce shook her head, took his hand and guided it to her round stomach. “No, with this. With the marriage, and this family. We  _just_ took in Kali, and then  _this._ Don’t you wish you were just Jim the Bachelor Cop again? Taking home pretty ladies with nothing to tie you down? Partying?”

Jim placed his hands at Joyce’s waist and lifted her. She placed her hands on his broad shoulders to steady herself as he pulled her in for a kiss.

“No. I love our weird, gigantic family, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Not even Oops Baby.”

“Don’t call it Oops Baby.”

___________

 

“Thanks, Steve.” Joyce tried to hand Steve Harrington ten dollars as they both stood in the middle of her front lawn, the sticky August sun beating down on both of them. Steve was shirtless and killing the engine on a push-mower, Joyce was wearing a blue sundress that showed off her condition each time a breeze blew through the lawn.

“It’s only supposed to be five, Mrs. By- Hopper,” Steve replied, correcting himself mid-surname.

Joyce shook her head and shielded her face from the sun with her other hand. “You’ve got college to pay for.”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Hawkins Community College is really breaking my bank, Mrs. H.”

“Stop. You only have two semesters to go before you transfer to Indiana State. You’re gonna need the money to live in the city. It’s expensive.” Especially now your parents cut you off, she wanted to add, but thought better of it. Old Man Harrington’s influence couldn’t even help Steve get into an Ivy League school, and the knowledge had enraged the man. Steve was thrown out and Hopper took pity on him, renting out his Grandpa’s Cabin to the boy for dirt cheap.

“Well, thanks. … don’t you have a doctor’s appointment today?”

Joyce’s eyes widened, and held up her left wrist to look at the delicate gold watch that adorned it. “Shit! I’m going to be late, and Hop was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago,” she moaned. “I’ll have to drive myself.”

Steve frowned. “Mrs. H, you’re on bedrest; I’m pretty sure driving is out of the question.”

Joyce shook her head. “No, they’re going to take me off of it depending on this doctor’s appointment. If they’re just going to let me off the hook, what’s the harm?”

“Yeah, but they might not. You’re kind of-” Steve bit his lip and Joyce knew he was trying to be delicate about his words.

“Old?”

“I was going to say you’re kind of - well, they said your blood pressure was high, and I don’t think driving a car will help, okay?”

Joyce threw her hands up in the air. “How the hell do you know all of this about me?” she shouted.

Steve threw his hands in front of him, palms out. “Hey, don’t upset yourself it’s not good for the-…” he trailed off when Joyce shot him a death glare. “The Chief visits the cabin for a few beers every once in awhile. He’s been worried sick since your doctor gave the orders. It was all he could talk about it that one night when he-”

“Didn’t come home,” Joyce finished, casting her eyes to the ground. She had tried very hard not to take it personal, the day they came home a few visits ago. Hopper had barely spoken a word to her the entire way back, and when they reached home, he promptly tucked her into bed, said goodbye to her and the kids and announced that he needed time to think. He came back the next day, bleary-eyed and sick from a massive hangover. “It wasn’t even that serious, just some issues with-”

“You really don’t need to repeat it. I heard everything that night. Anyway, get in my car. I’ll take you.”

Joyce huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “Maybe I should just miss it. It would serve him right for not knowing how to tell time.”

“Absolutely not. Let’s go, I know a shortcut.”

One blown out tire later, Joyce and Steve were stranded in a narrow back road, which was doing nothing for Joyce’s anxiety.

“I could have walked and been there already!” she fretted from the backseat.

“The Chief is going to kill me. Holy shit, I might die today,” Steve hyperventilated as he paced back and forth in front of the car.

“Where’s your spare tire?” Joyce demanded, poking her head out of her backseat window.

“It was on the car.”

“WHAT?!”

“I meant to replace it, but funds have been tight and-”

“Exactly how long have you been driving on a donut, Harrington?”

“Three days.”

“THREE-”

“Mrs. H, your blood pressure, please!” Steve shrieked, running a hand through his long locks.

Joyce was past that, her throat and chest tightened and her heartbeat began to pick up a it’s familiar and dread inducing pace. “I’m…” she trailed off and tried to take big gulps of air.

“No, no, no… You have got to stay calm!”

“I can’t when you’re ye-…” Joyce stopped mid-sentence and placed a hand on her stomach, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “Steve.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Steve flung the door open and looked her up and down. “How can you tell?”

“I’m sitting in my own fluids.”

Steve reeled back and gagged before placing his hands on his knees, bowing his head, and taking long, deep breaths. “It’s fine. It’s disgusting, but it’s fine.”

“I need to get to the hospital!”

As if on cue, an ancient Ford pickup truck came huffing up the road. Steve immediately shouted and began to wave his hands over his head frantically. “Hey! We got an emergency here!”

Joyce recognized old Wayne Scroggins immediately as he pulled up alongside Steve’s BMW. “Son, why on earth do you have Chief Hopper’s wife in the backseat of your car?” the man drawled, spitting out a mouthful of brown liquid that spattered the front of Steve’s sneakers as it hit the ground.

Steve explained the predicament, including how long he had been driving with a spare. Wayne threw his head back and laughed uproariously.

“Oh, son. You might as well go change your name while I take this pretty lady to the hospital.”

“Wait!” Joyce cried. “Someone has to call the Wheelers and tell Will and El and Kali where I am - and then there’s Jonathan at NYU, and Hop. Someone has to find Hopper, please!”

“My house is just up the road, Joyce. This young idiot can walk there and make all the calls you need. The door’s unlocked.”

Joyce shook her head. “No, he can’t leave me, I can’t go alone with someone I barely know.”

Steve opened rushed to the other side of the car and flung open the door. “Mrs. H, it’s okay. I’ll find a ride and be there-”

“NO! You can’t leave me alone.” Joyce began to cry, fat, terrified tears at the thought.

Wayne opened the driver’s side door of his truck and jumped down, throwing the keys to Steve. “Not a problem. Give me the numbers, and I’ll take care of everything.” He turned to Steve. “If you wreck my truck, the Chief will be the least of your worries, you hear?”

“Yup.”

Somehow, Joyce managed to make it to the hospital without having a complete nervous breakdown. Her doctor was notified, and she was shuttled to her room, with Steve acting as her de facto birth partner.

“Where did you learn Lamaze breathing?” Joyce asked as Steve held her hand and coached her through her breaths.

“TV… come on, now, cooperate.”

Seconds later, Jim Hopper came barrelling into the room, dressed in scrubs and looking for all the world like a wild creature from some sort of myth. “Joyce!”

“Oh, thank God!” Steve cried, releasing Joyce’s hand and stepping away from the bed so Hopper could take his place.

“Where were you?” Joyce asked in an accusatory tone as her husband rained kisses on the back of her hand.

“Melvald’s had an actual honest-to-goodness armed robbery, and I was tied up at the station. I must have gotten home ten minutes after you left and I’ve been running myself ragged trying to find you. Why didn’t you take the main roads?” Hopper inquired hoarsely, tears shining in his eyes.

Joyce shot Steve an icy look. Hopper turned to the boy and narrowed his eyes. “Now’s not the time, but we will have words,” he intoned. “Now, scram.”

“Yes sir!” Steve squeaked, nearly tripping over his feet to flee the room.

_________

Jim Hopper walked into the waiting room, his eyes taking in his unusual little family as they all sat in an anxious row. Kali was slumbering against El’s shoulder, and she was about the only person in the room who was asleep, despite the hours upon hours of waiting. When Jonathan and Will noticed Hopper, they jumped to their feet, twin pairs of dark eyes red-rimmed in pale faces. El nudged Kali, who snorted and then opened her eyes.   
  
“Is she… ?” Will trailed off, unable to complete the question.   
  
Hopper realized how dour he must look to the kids, his body and brain numb with exhaustion. His face broke out in a tremulous grin. “Hey, they’re both fine,” his voice was thick with emotion. It had been a difficult delivery, which they had all been expecting. Her blood pressure had been high when she was brought in, which had been a real fear for the past several weeks. Then there was the issue of the size of the baby, which gave Hopper the most anxiety. He had been a large baby, but both of his parents had been solid, large people. Sara had been a large baby, but Diane’s labor had gone off without a hitch because she had been young, healthy and tall.   
  
Joyce was a small woman - a titan trapped in a fragile shell. Both Jonathan and Will had been tiny things like their mother, and she had given birth to them when she was relatively young and healthy. But this wasn’t a normal pregnancy, Joyce wasn’t young, and years of smoking had begun to take a toll on her health until she quit two years prior. A million horrific scenarios had run through Hopper’s head because of these facts, and it showed during the labor. Eventually, he had been sent out of the room, though he couldn’t bring himself to return to the waiting room and project his anxiety on their children. His calves ached from pacing by the time a nurse emerged into the hallway to tell him that the baby had arrived, that Joyce and the child were fine. He had to find an empty stairwell to weep into for about five minutes before he could return to the room to greet his wife and child.   
  
“Can we see -umm- the baby?” Jonathan asked. Neither Hopper nor Joyce had been interested in finding out the gender beforehand.   
  
“Your mom is resting, but we can take a peek into the nursery to see your brother.”   
  
Hopper grinned as Will and Jonathan cheered the news. El and Kali exchanged little grins and shrugged. He realized that neither of them had ever seen a human baby up close.   
  
As the five of them stood near the glass (three faces nearly pressed up against it), Hopper felt another wave of emotion, that left his eyes stinging with tears; Oops Baby was fat and fussy, with a shock of reddish hair that matched his face. He was probably the most beautiful, perfect thing Hopper had ever seen, save for Sara.   
  
“He looks like a tiny old man,” Kali stated in a matter-of-factly tone.   
  
“He’s cute,” El countered, wrinkling her nose at her sister.   
  
Will squinted to catch the name on the bassinet. “Robert James.” he blinked back immediate tears and sighed. “Oh.”   
  
Hopper put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You don’t like it?”   
  
Will shook his head and smiled sadly. “No, I like it.”   
  
“The kid has a lot to live up to, with a name like that,” Jonathan stated with a crooked grin. “That’s a superhero name.”


	2. Ditched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joyce and the baby get stranded in a storm. Hopper does not take it well.

“Where’s your mom?” Jim Hopper asked as he walked into the kitchen, tracking slush and snow onto the linoleum; Will and El were sitting next to each other at the island counter, busy with their math homework. They exchanged puzzled looks, and then turned their attention to their father.

“She’s out Christmas shopping with Bobby,” El replied.

Jim swore softly and glanced at the window above the kitchen sink. The view was completely white, void of the usual view of the backyard with its cheerful little walnut tree and swing set–a strong wind rattled the pane. “About how long ago was that?” he inquired, not tearing his eyes from the wintry scene outside.

Will wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know. She said she was going to do it this morning after we left for school, but didn’t tell us when she was going to leave…” the boy followed Jim’s gaze to the window and he immediately gulped. “It wasn’t like that when we got off of the bus.”

Jim looked back at his son and daughter, and took stock of their terrified expressions. His hands were shaking ever-so-slightly as the creeping anxiety began to set his insides churning. He drew a shaky breath and managed a weak smile.

“You know her; she probably didn’t leave until school let out. It takes her forever to get going, especially with the baby.”

“Yeah,” El murmured in a tone that suggested she was not at all placated by her father’s words. 

“I’ll get dinner started; she’s probably going to be exhausted when she gets home,” Jim added, the urge to keep busy rising. If he didn’t do something, he was just going to pace a groove into the floor, or scream. “Where’s your sister?”

“Helping Steve study at the cabin,” Will answered. 

“Give her a call and tell her to stay put, would you? Roads are too dangerous, especially the country roads near the cabin.”

Will nodded and abandoned his homework to make his way to the telephone. 

“What should I do?” El asked, her voice small and on the verge of cracking. Jim noticed the tears in her eyes and he immediately rushed over to her, and put his arms around her in a tight embrace that pulled her off of the stool she was perched on. 

“Kid, it’s going to be okay,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “They’re going to be okay.” he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, but he supposed it was mostly himself. Hot fear was tearing at his guts and making his throat feel tight and constricted. 

In the end, he was able to prep an onion and chop up two carrots before he tossed the knife into the sink, grabbed his keys and coat from the kitchen table, and stalked out into the turbulent night without a word to Will or El, intent on finding his wife and child.

__________

“Mother fudging shoot!” Joyce Hopper cursed for the 5th time since the front left tire blew out on her car, sending it spinning before nosediving into a ditch. It had been well over an hour since the incident, and with the hazards on and the heat blasting, she knew it was only a matter of time before the car battery went dead. 

Miraculously, Bobby had only fussed for about five minutes before Joyce’s soft-but-frantic singing managed to lull him back to sleep. She tried to remain calm as she waited, hoping someone,  _anyone_ would come along and help–then she turned on the radio, and hope began to die. 

_State-of-Emergency…_

Nobody in their right would be on the roads. The plows wouldn’t even be on their merry ways until conditions improved slightly. It occurred to her to get out and start walking, but then she remembered the baby; there was no way she’d risk carrying him along with her, and leaving him was out of the question, especially when she was unsure of the battery life left in the car.

At least they were relatively close to home–a comfortable three miles at the most, which would’ve been nothing on a clear day; she and Bobby would’ve just walked until they made it back, found a house or were spotted–except it was the fudging Snowpocalypse, the nearest house was her own, and there was no one around to do the spotting. They were fuc-fudged; Joyce was even trying to not swear in her own thoughts, lest Bobby have some sort of power like El or Kali and was privy to her inner-workings. 

“Come on, Hop–get a clue,” she sighed, resting her forehead against the steering wheel as she began to cry in earnest. She didn’t even know if he was stuck at the station, or at home, or even–her heart clenched at the thought–in a similar or worse predicament. This made her cry harder, her body wracking with silent sobs. She cried until she exhausted herself, her eyes growing heavy. She fell asleep just as the lights went out in the car, but she was too far gone to notice.

______

Jim spotted the car about three miles out of the city limits, in the direction of South Bend, where he figured Joyce would head towards for holiday shopping. He carefully parked the Blazer near the side of the road, and tried to steady his breathing at the sight of Joyce’s little car resting in the ditch. The lights were still on in the car, but growing faint, and when he shot out of the driver’s side of his vehicle, they went out completely. 

“Jesus Christ,” he swore, rushing towards the stranded car, and managing to slip on the ice-covered road several times before reaching the driver’s side door. He wiped the snow from it, peered inside, and upon seeing Joyce slumped over in her seat, unconscious, he began to frantically tap on the glass; his entire world turning on it’s axis until she jerked awake and turned in his direction. It was impossible to open the door, so she rolled down the window instead.

“Hop!” she cried hoarsely, tears of relief spring to her eyes as he reached through the window, cupped her face and brought it to his for a hard, desperate kiss. “Hop…” she sighed between kisses that were tasted of her tears and his own. 

“The baby?” he inquired, pushing strands of hair away from her face.

“He’s fine. He’s sleeping, he almost slept through this entire mess.”

Jim let out a relieved, choking laugh before nodding. “Okay, let’s get you two home.” he pressed another kiss against her lips. “God, I love you so much,” he uttered, touching her forehead with his own. 

“Don’t you want to know what I got you for Christmas?” she teased.


	3. Oops Baby's First Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little yuletide continuation. Will update fic as more Oops Baby prompts get sent to @starmaammke on tumblr.

“I don’t know why you are so obsessed with that fat little monster,” Kali sniffed before applying her eye makeup in front of El Hopper’s vanity mirror.

El stopped bouncing her little brother on her knee, and shifted him so that he settled into her arms. Bobby Hopper was four months old, and very fat, but he was definitely not a monster. El shot a glare at the back of her sister’s head as she settled onto the edge of her bed.

“Don’t listen to her, Bobby.”

“He can’t understand you, you know.” Kali turned and cupped her mouth with both hands. “Hey, chunky-monkey, get a job you bum!” The baby regarded his oldest sister with wide, blue eyes and gurgled with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “See?”

“I know that–but the more you talk to him, the more he understands. That’s what Mom’s parenting book says.”

Kali shrugged and turned back to her makeup. “Okay, Tiny Mama.”

“Where are you going? It’s Christmas Eve!”

“Steve is taking me to a party.” Kali was currently dating Steve Harrington, who was slightly older, and had a semester to go at Hawkins Community College before starting at the police academy. He was still living in the Hopper’s old cabin.

“Is the party at the cabin?” El asked, voice filled with suspicion.

“He pays rent on it, doesn’t he? So what if he wants to have friends over?”

El shrugged and stood. “Okay. Well, have fun and be home by curfew.”

Kali rolled her eyes. “I don’t have curfew anymore, I’m 18.” She did have curfew, and both of them knew it, but El didn’t want to argue on Christmas Eve.

“Okay. Let’s go, Bobby–Jonathan will be here soon.”

El padded into the living room, Bobby on her hip. Will was sitting on the living room floor, controller in his hand and staring at the television as Mario skipped across the screen, fireballing all manner of cartoon villain.

“Mom and Dad aren’t home yet?” El asked, pulling a plush blanket from the back of the couch and throwing it onto the floor. Will pressed ‘pause’ and took Bobby from her arms so she could straighten the blanket out. “Tummy Time!” she cooed at the baby as Will set him onto the blanket on his stomach.

“I’m sure they’ll be home soon. Mom hates being away from Bobby, and it’s Christmas Eve.” Jim and Joyce were attending a Christmas party at the Wheelers, at Jim’s insistence. Bobby began to fuss, his round face going red with outrage. “Don’t make him do this long, he hates Tummy Time.”

“He needs it.” El knelt near Bobby and murmured encouraging nonsense. “You can do this, Bobby.” he squawked at her in response.

A car horn honked from the driveway, and Kali sauntered from the bedroom, taking her time as she headed through the living room towards the front door. “Happy Christmas!” she exclaimed sarcastically, before grabbing her coat and leaving.

“Such a Grinch,” Will remarked, crawling onto his stomach near the baby. “Good job, Bobby!”

The pair continued to coach their little brother for a few minutes until the front door opened and Jonathan trudged in, a duffel bag flung over one shoulder and a black garbage bag clutched in his right hand. He immediately set his bags aside to catch hugs from El and Will.

“Merry Christmas, guys!” Jonathan greeted warmly, before walking to the blanket and scooping a very fussy Bobby into his arms. “Awww, guy… I know.” he walked across the living room, bouncing the baby in his arms before stopping in front of the Christmas tree in one corner of the room. The blue and white lights reflected in Bobby’s pale-blue eyes and left little streaks in his reddish-blonde hair–he immediately went quiet as he stared up at the various ornaments.

“What did you get us?” Will asked, peering into the garbage bag. “Ugh, it’s just laundry.”

“Cut that out. I left your presents with Santa,” Jonathan scolded as he plucked a cloth candy cane ornament from the tree and guided Bobby’s fingers around it. “Sorry I’m so late. I had to drop Nancy off, and then listen to Mom fuss about why I wasn’t at home making sure you kids weren’t burning the house down with Bobby in it.”

El snorted. “We’re good babysitters.”

“That’s what I told her.”

_______

“Can you drive any faster?” Joyce Hopper fretted as Jim maintained the speed limit down the streets of Hawkins.

“It’s snowing, baby. You worry too much.”

Joyce twisted her hands in her lap as she frowned. “I didn’t want to stay out this late… the kids didn’t answer the phone when I called.”

Jim shrugged. “It’s late. They’re probably asleep–and we needed this. We’ve barely left the house since Little B was born, and it’s been taking a toll. This party was fun.”

Joyce shook her head. “Too much fun.”

When they pulled into the driveway, the only light that shined from the windows of their house was coming from the Christmas tree. “See, they’re fast asleep.”

“They shouldn’t be. Not with the baby in the house; God knows I don’t.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna work on that.”

When they walked through the front door, Joyce gave a little sigh at the scene before them; Jonathan was asleep in armchair; Kali slumbering on the couch, holding Bobby to her chest, his little head nestled comfortably against the crook of her neck; El and Will were sleeping in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, a bowl of popcorn between them and a Christmas movie playing on the television.

Joyce gently took Bobby from Kali, making a sweet sound at his little green elf onesie. There was a discarded pointy hat on the floor near the couch, and Jonathan’s camera was resting on the coffee table. “Oh, I can’t wait until he gets those pictures developed; I wonder if he got Kali to smile.”

“Not likely.’ Jim walked up to Joyce and kissed the top of her head. “She made curfew by the looks of it, and that’s a Christmas miracle as is.” Bobby stirred in Joyce’s arms, but didn’t open his eyes, even as Jim traced a forefinger over his fat little cheek.

“He’s perfect,” Joyce murmured, not for the first or last time.


End file.
